


gift

by Waywarder



Series: Simply Having an Ineffable Christmastime [21]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:06:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21876364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waywarder/pseuds/Waywarder
Summary: In which Aziraphale has something for Crowley.Part of Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables holiday series!
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Simply Having an Ineffable Christmastime [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558789
Comments: 9
Kudos: 67





	gift

“Just a bit further now!”

Crowley could see through the blindfold, obviously, but Aziraphale had just been so excited to put it on him. Aziraphale knew that the demon would honor the implication of the blindfold, and keep his eyes and powers shut against the world if Aziraphale asked. 

Aziraphale was holding Crowley’s hand, leading him around, taking as much care as his enthusiasm would let him to make sure that Crowley didn’t bump into anything. They were outside, that much Crowley knew. It was awfully cold out, and Crowley couldn’t help but think that it was the perfect weather for cozying up inside the bookshop, but Aziraphale had been determined. A little wobbly and nervous, sure, but determined.

“I have something for you,” the angel had said, firmly. Crowley had noticed the twitch in his fingers, but hadn’t said anything.

Aziraphale was up to something, and Crowley was desperately curious to find out what. 

Aziraphale led him up some steps. In the darkness, Crowley felt Aziraphale’s hands go up to the blindfold. The angel’s fingers continued to tremble a bit. 

“Are you ready, darling?”

“As I’ll ever be, angel.”

Aziraphale removed the blindfold. Crowley took in their surroundings, and his heart plummeted. This certainly wasn’t what he’d anticipated. 

They were standing in the bandstand.

It was decorated for Christmas, and it was beautiful, sure. White lights were draped over seemingly every surface of the structure, and a modest pine tree stood proudly in the center. There was a frilly, smug angel decoration on top of the tree, and Crowley wanted to simultaneously destroy it as well as tuck it into his pocket for safekeeping. 

Holidays are confusing.

“And why are we here?” Crowley fought to keep his voice casual. He hated being here. Hated the memories associated with this place. 

Aziraphale took a deep breath. He didn’t touch Crowley. Just stood there in the bandstand, and faced the demon. Crowley’s heart cracked a little at the sight of him. He looked so… brave.

“The last time we were here…” Aziraphale began, carefully, deliberately.

“Aziraphale.” Crowley shut his eyes. He didn’t need Aziraphale to apologize or whatever he was planning to do. He didn’t need to think about the last time they were here. 

“Please, my dear?”

Crowley nodded, but he kept his eyes shut. Too many phantoms floated across his vision when he looked at the bandstand. Aziraphale telling him, “ _We’re not friends._ ”

“ _It’s over._ ”

Himself walking away.

“The last time we were here,” Aziraphale went on, voice soft. “Well, I was rather unkind, Crowley. I said things that I didn’t mean, things that I’m not proud of. I was scared of what They would do to us once They figured out what we are… what we have always been, really, to one another. I hope you can forgive me.”

Crowley swallowed, nodding again, eyes still shut. Where was that damn blindfold when you needed it?

“Crowley,” Aziraphale breathed his name like it was some great marvel. Like it was the most precious word in any language. “Anthony J. Crowley, Serpent of Eden, my _darling,_ will you please open your eyes?”

So Crowley did.

Something between a sob and a gasp escaped from his throat as he beheld Aziraphale. Aziraphale, his angel, his beloved, everything about him illuminated by Christmas lights, in the center of the blasted bandstand.

Aziraphale, down on one knee.

In his outstretched, no-longer-shaking hand, he held a small, velvet box.

Inside that box, as you damn well know, there was a ring.

“I’m not scared anymore,” And Aziraphale’s voice was indeed steel. “You, my dear, have helped me find my courage. What you mean to me… what you are to me… I’ve struggled for the words for a very long time, and, well, this is frightfully human of me, but… well, I rather think that ‘husband’ could serve our purposes quite well, if you like.”

Crowley crashed down to his own skinny knees, and grasped Aziraphale’s face in his hands.

“Angel,” Fuck, it came out as more of a growl than he’d meant it. His voice was rough, there was shattered glass in his throat. “Aziraphale.”

“Crowley.” Again, whispered like he was the ninth wonder of the bloody world. 

Crowley looked down at the ring. Simple, elegant, silver. And then--

He laughed out loud, that cackle of his. Aziraphale’s face flushed at the sound, looking suddenly worried, looking a bit stricken.

_Oh, none of that,_ thought Crowley.

“No, angel,” Crowley grinned. “It’s not you. It’s me. Well, it’s us, really. Look.”

And he let go of Aziraphale’s face, and rummaged around in his jacket pocket where a small, velvet box of his own had been magically hidden for the better part of a month. 

“I didn’t think we did gifts until the 25th.”

Aziraphale gasped, then laughed, then grabbed Crowley round the back of the neck and pulled him forward for a kiss. 

“Fiances, then?” The word was impossibly lovely on Crowley’s tongue.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Aziraphale smiled, one hand still at the nape of Crowley’s neck. “It’s not as though the typical rules apply to us after all. It’s already been such an awfully long engagement, my dear.”

Crowley opened his box, and removed a golden band. He held his hand out, and Aziraphale placed his own gently in it. Crowley’s eyes never left Aziraphale’s as he slid the ring onto Aziraphale’s finger.

“Husbands, then?” 

“Husbands, I think.”

“Husbands, then,” Crowley leaned forward to kiss the ring on Aziraphale’s hand.

And Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand, and placed the silver band on Crowley’s finger. And he, too, bent down to kiss it. There in the bandstand, lit up by Christmas lights, and sealed with rings and kisses, was a quiet, little wedding. They held hands, there on their knees, and gazed into one another’s eyes, sometimes so overwhelmed with love and adoration that one of them broke off, laughing. But they found each other again after a moment. 

They always had. They always will.

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU FOR READING. Happy Solstice!
> 
> I'm wiserandwaywarder over on Tumblr.


End file.
